


Revelation

by JoansGlove



Series: Wentworth Detention Centre: The Ferguson Years [6]
Category: Prisoner (TV)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-06 15:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12820812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoansGlove/pseuds/JoansGlove
Summary: Joan spots Vera drinking alone and takes a chance, awakening Vera's dormant desire





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another AU tale from the vaults of PCBH. I always wondered what would happen if Joan ever met Vera....
> 
> With thanks to Duchess and Ifitbelove

Joan grimaced as she surveyed the raucous throng. Was there anything worse than drunken Prison Officers? Probably, she thought, but it didn’t bear thinking about!  
As a newcomer to the state she needed to make connections with like-minded people, the annual Departmental conference was the ideal opportunity and so, for a while this evening she had stuck close to Erica Davidson and had been presented to a stream of other governors and influential Departmental flunkeys, but it was her old friend, Cynthia, who had introduced her to the really important people, those officers and officials who knew how to get things done properly, who knew the value of information and power and physical coercion.

She’d been enjoying herself but, as the guests’ inhibitions lowered (a direct effect of the free bar) and they got down to the serious business of cutting loose, Joan withdrew to the relative sanctuary of the lounge bar. She wasn’t the only one to have had this idea.

Wearing an evening dress of deepest green satin, a curvaceous red-head sat alone at the end of the polished wooden counter. Joan recalled her from earlier, it was Vera Bennett, the youngest Governor in Victoria. Joan was intrigued by this woman who, until her promotion last year, had been the Deputy Governor at Wentworth; she’d heard that the women called her Vinegar Tits and she had the reputation of being one of the hardest officers Wentworth had ever seen. According to them she was so mean that she wouldn’t even give you the steam off her piss, would never turn a blind eye to an infringement of the rules and had always been pushing for stricter discipline. They hated her and from what she’d overheard in the staffroom, even the other officers thought her too hard-line, laughing at her because she’d dedicated her life to the job at the expense of her personal life and pitying her because they thought that she took her loneliness and bitterness out on the women.

But to Joan, all of this was just proof of what an efficient and effective officer Vera really was. None of the other bleeding hearts back at Wentworth had come so far so quickly. No, Vera was someone to be admired and emulated.

Joan hesitated for a brief moment, straightening her jacket and patting her shiny chignon, then seated herself next to the lone woman. “Hello again, Vera,” she smiled warmly, “you're missing out on the fun. A fine-looking woman like you shouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She drained her glass and set it down beside Vera's equally empty one.  
“I’m not missing out.” Vera pulled a face and yanked out a cigarette from the packet in front of her, “all that forced frivolity isn’t for me,” she said tartly and lit it from the flame of Joan's waiting lighter. She was only here for form’s sake, these sorts of events were pretty much compulsory once you had your own prison. She didn’t get on with any of those people out there, in fact, she reflected bitterly, she didn’t get on with most people. She knew what they thought of her, even if they didn’t say it she could see it in their eyes, in their mocking smiles and hear it in their voices. She tried to ignore it but sometimes she was so unhappy that not even drinking herself into oblivion made it go away.

“So, what are you doing in here? Drinking to forget?” Joan lit a cigarette of her own and blew out a long plume of smoke as she watched Vera from the corner of her eye. Even from this angle she had a good view of the woman’s voluptuous cleavage.  
“You could say that.” She eyed this newcomer with suspicion. Ferguson, yes, that was her name, a transfer from Queensland if she remembered correctly.  
A whisper of devilment made Joan test the waters. “What was her name?”

Vera turned to stare at Joan, her lip curling with ingrained disdain. “Lesbianism is unnatural,” she declared sourly. What was it about her that made people think that she was like that?  
“No more unnatural than being born with ginger hair, I’d say,” replied Joan levelly as she signalled to the barman for their empty glasses to be refilled. “It’s not a choice for any of us.”  
Vera’s eyes narrowed, “don’t get smart,” she snapped. “It’s not normal. The thought of two women together, it just isn’t right, is it?”

Raising an eyebrow Joan sucked in air through pursed lips: it didn’t matter who this woman was, she needed a lesson in civility, especially considering how the stories about her failed romances were legendary amongst the Wentworth gossips. “And shackling yourself to a man who thinks that he owns you just to conform is?” she questioned archly. “Forgive my rudeness, Vera, but have any of the men that you’ve been involved with ever taken the time to make you truly happy? Have they ever made you feel like the woman you know you are?” she scanned Vera's sullen expression and pursed her lips again in pity, “have you ever been truly satisfied? No, I suspect not. It takes a woman to know another woman,”she lowered her gravelly voice, “how to make her smile, to know where to touch, how to touch, and most importantly, why to touch. But of course, that’s just my opinion.”

Vera scanned back through her catalogue of sexual failures, all those awkward encounters with men that had nearly always ended with her feeling cheap and unfulfilled. She knew that these men could smell her desperation and homed in on her because she was a sure bet. All she ever wanted was to be recognised as a woman but, each time she tried to connect, she was reduced to the contents of her underwear by men who would forget her by lunch-time. Only two men had ever said that they’d loved her, but George was a gangster and Terry had been unhinged – not a good track record by anybody’s standards. And she had been so pathetically grateful that they had stuck around once they’d slept with her that she’d ignored their obvious failings. Even now, the spectre of Terry Harrison made her shy away from even allowing herself to feel attracted to a man - not that they were falling over themselves to court her...

“Men are bastards,” she muttered bitterly.  
“On occasion.”  
“And I’m not a ‘fine-looking woman’, I’m a frump.”  
“You sit there, with that hair and that figure, and you don’t think you look good?” Joan asked incredulously, turning in her seat to sweep her admiring gaze over Vera.  
“Not good enough.” Vera drained her glass and nodded to the barman for another drink.  
“Well, I happen to think that you are plenty good enough, Vera Bennett.”

Vera wasn’t used to flattery, she distrusted it yet it boosted her ego nonetheless. “I still don’t think it’s right,” she maintained and swirled the ice in her glass.  
“Right by who’s standards?”  
“The Bible says so.”  
Joan rolled her eyes, she’d met plenty of unholy Christians in her time who used scripture to uphold their bigotry. “Oh yes? And do you believe what the Bible tells you?”  
“I used to.”She’d been meek, she’d honoured her mother, she’d tried to turn the other cheek but following those teachings had brought her nothing but pain and loneliness.  
“But not now, eh?”  
“No,” she agreed slowly, “not now.”  
“So why hold fast to the belief that Lesbianism is wrong. It isn’t even mentioned in the Bible.” Joan lightly touched the inside of Vera's wrist and noted with surprise (and pleasure) that her fingertips weren’t shaken off, “why is it that you think like that, Vera?”Her hazel eyes flickered softly over the other woman’s.  
“I don’t know,” she admitted unguardedly and stared into her fresh whiskey and soda.

Yet again, Vera was forced to face the fact that she was socially inept. It stung her that even from an early age she’d had no confidence, her mother had seen to that - sabotaging any attempt to join in with the other kids, belittling and ridiculing her at every opportunity - anything to ensure that Vera wouldn’t leave her, and she’d allowed it to happen, right up until the day her mother died.  
She was envious of almost everybody because they were all capable of making friends so easily, and when those friendships became relationships, and eventually marriages, she was eaten up with envy and self-loathing because she knew that no-one would ever want her like that. And as much as she hated it, she was also envious of those prisoners who could develop such close relationships with each other, women who could express their affection and support with small, intimate gestures, who relied on each other to survive the privations of prison. All of the time she was surrounded by people who could connect but who didn’t want to connect with her…She hated it so much!

And although she tried not to think about it much, when she’d been younger, she’d met several women who had made her feel like a silly schoolgirl. Women whose attention and friendship she had craved more than any man’s, but her insecurity and helpless envy had translated into sour hostility and thin-lipped bitching, and so, as usual, she remained alone and isolated whilst everyone else lived the life that she so desperately wanted.

  
She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the dark-haired woman whose fingertips were currently drawing small circles on the skin of her inner forearm. Joan Ferguson's reputation as a hard-line officer hadn’t taken long to reach the Governor’s chair at Barnhurst and Vera whole-heartedly approved of her no-nonsense approach, but she hadn’t expected her to look like this.  
Vera was slightly in awe of the woman’s size; OK, so Joan Barfield back at Wentworth was probably taller but she was like a gangling lamb compared to Joan Ferguson's solid presence. She held herself with the sureness and bearing of a man, yet there was a gentleness to her that seemed at odds with the way she presented.  
And whilst she was a long way from being pretty, there was something about her that was handsome, almost attractive and Vera felt a small hot prickle develop at the base of her skull. Her dark eyes fell to Joan's fingers.

“Are women not to your taste?” asked Joan softly. She expected Vera to agree that indeed they weren’t, and was suitably intrigued when Vera finally replied.  
“I don’t know,” she admitted again in a very small voice. With an unusual brazeness, Joan's hand fell to Vera's thigh and she began to lightly caress the long curve through the silky fabric of her dress.  
“Have you ever met a woman who you wanted as more than a friend? Someone who made you want to know what they looked like beneath their clothes?” Vera blushed as she thought back to Officer Training and Senior Instructor Kate Pearson – her hour-glass figure lean and hard under her uniform. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Vera. Nothing at all.” Joan's caress became more insistent.

A dark flush of forbidden arousal crept up Vera's neck and flooded her cheeks, and the prickling in her nape raced over her scalp making her feel hot and faintly nauseous. She didn’t know how to handle what she was feeling at that moment, “I need some air,” she mumbled and slid from her stool.  
“Whoah, easy there!” exclaimed Joan as Vera stumbled. Her hands flew to the red-head’s waist and she held Vera steady as she shook her head to clear it. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Vera shivered as Joan slipped an arm around her ribs and allowed herself to be guided out of the function room.

  
“Where are we going?” demanded Vera sharply as they entered the hotel lobby. She scowled peevishly, “this isn’t the way out! I said I needed some air.”  
“Ye-es,” agreed Joan with a tilt of her head, “and you shall get it, I know a nice quiet place away from this lot.” Thankful that there were no prying eyes to see them go, she steered Vera into the lift and punched the button for the 11th floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Vera glanced nervously along the corridor as Joan unlocked the door to her room. It really wouldn’t do to be seen slipping inside with a colleague. Think of the scandal! It never occurred to her that she was already thinking of Joan Ferguson as a lover and she put the buzzing in her chest down to alcohol, never dreaming that she was being seduced by a woman.

Joan was the perfect hostess. She settled Vera on the small balcony and lit her cigarette before disappearing to make her some tea. On her return, she sat beside Vera on the small rattan bench, their knees touching, and she gently drew Vera out of her shell a little by asking her about her new Governorship and admiring her achievements. She lavished Vera with genuine flattery and subtle flirting, watching her relax until she’d lost her pinched, spinsterish frown and her smile became easy and almost happy.

“They’re nothing but animals, you know?” slurred Vera. “None of them will ever amount to anything.... Waste of time trying to rehabilitate them.”  
“Well, it makes a nice change for someone to have the guts to actually say so,” remarked Joan warmly. “You know, it’s so rare to meet a like-minded woman in today’s modern prison service. All of these bleeding heart liberals make me sick with their airy fairy ideas, those women are there to be punished, not bloody coddled.”  
Vera nodded emphatically, “absolutely, Joan. I couldn’t agree more. Erica Davidson thinks she knows what’s best for Wentworth, but she doesn’t, it takes someone who’s spent time in the ranks to know how to handle those women. Now, if I were Governor there then you’d see how it should be done but the Department’s made it clear that Davidson is there to stay.”

Joan lit two cigarettes and offered one to Vera. “But by the sounds of it, Vera, you’ve licked Barnhurst into proper shape. And that’s no small feat when you consider that it was halfway to being a holiday camp when you took over.”  
Vera’s face split in a huge grin, “you’re right there, Joan, but I’ve got it just how I want it now. They all toe the line now, prisoners and officers alike.”  
“I like the way you think, Vera,” replied Joan with feeling and gave her a conspiratorial nudge with her shoulder, “you’re my type of woman!”

The kiss happened so simply and so naturally. One moment Joan was stroking away the goosebumps on Vera's arm and in the next their eyes locked and they slowly offered their mouths to each other. Vera burned as her whole body tingled with excitement but she couldn’t shake the insidious voice telling her it was wrong. It was all so strange and different but she had a nagging suspicion that it could be so easy if she ripped away the band-aid of bitter hatred that she’d applied over all the pain of living her life for others but not herself.

Breaking away, she shakily lit a cigarette and crossed to the balcony railing where she tried to get a grip on her feelings. Her lips tingled from the stunning delicacy of Joan's kiss and she found herself stroking them with the soft pads of her fingers. Her cigarette smouldered forgotten until the heat from the advancing ember brought her to her senses, and she took a deep pull of the sweetly acrid smoke and blew it out over the city as the nicotine rush bounced off her drunkenness and she wondered futilely what the hell she should do. Their differing ranks meant nothing, absolutely nothing at this moment; if anything it was Joan who was in charge, Joan who was the one with grace and experience, and she was the rank amateur - as green and as nervous as her first day in the job.

Sweeping her eye over her guest's deep curves Joan tried to pinpoint what it was that had made her throw caution to the wind and approach someone as seemingly straight as Vera but, try as she might, she couldn’t; she’d just had an instinct that there was more to her than met the eye and she had been right, wonderfully so as it turned out! Vera had something undefineably special about her, but she was obviously nervous about facing this side of herself and Joan knew that she had to tread carefully in case she scared her off - she didn’t need a powerful enemy this early on.

Slipping back into her room, Joan set the kettle to boil for more tea and quickly changed out of her high-waisted trouser suit and into an over-sized white shirt of semi-sheer silk with tails that just brushed her knees. She re-joined Vera by the railing. “There’s more tea if you want it. Oh, yeah,” she said as Vera took in her new outfit with a look of surprise and confusion. She smoothed down the thin fabric of her shirt against her stomach and explained, “I’m not going back down to the party, and that suit was never designed for comfort, so I got changed. I hope you don’t mind?”

Vera's clit pulsed with a sudden excitement that shook her to the core. Even in the soft light flowing from the open bedroom doors she could make out the darkness of Joan's hard nipples through the silk, hell's teeth, she wasn’t wearing a bra! And she’d taken down her chignon and her lustrous brown hair now framed her handsome face and graceful neck in soft, glowing waves. “Um, well, I…” she stammered lamely,“well, no, you look rather nice actually,” she flashed a nervous smile and gazed up at the stars. “It’s such a beautiful night, isn’t it?”  
“Yeah, it is. A beautiful night to be enjoyed with a beautiful woman.” Joan moved behind Vera and gently chafed her upper arms, “can you see the Great Emu?” she asked.  
“No, where am I looking?” She knew perfectly well where it was but something perverse in her made her want to yield to this tall woman.

Slipping one hand around Vera's slim waist Joan stretched out the other and pointed at the Milky Way, “there, just below the Cross, that gap in the stars.”  
With a faint tremor in her throat Vera asked, “where?”  
Resting her chin on Vera's shoulder Joan matched her sightline and gripped her hand, raising it up to the heavens. “There, see it?” A warming tingle of anticipation and desire made Joan take a deep breath as her body fitted itself against Vera’ curves.  
In for a penny, in for a pound Vera reasoned fuzzily – she could always blame it on drink later. She nodded and twined her fingers between Joan’s. “Mmm, the stars are pretty.”

She gasped softly as Joan lowered their arms and wrapped them around her middle. Warm lips brushed the freckles on her bare shoulder and Vera gripped the railing with both hands as Joan started to stroke her flat midriff. Her fingers released clouds of butterflies in Vera's chest as they cautiously edged upwards to finally brush the swell of her breasts. Vera pressed back into her, silently encouraging Joan to slide her tentative hands higher over their fullness until they held the full weight of her ample bosom.

Joan felt Vera's breath catch as she traced the soft sweeping curves and lifted her mouth from the ivory of Vera's neck.  
“Is this what you want, Vera?” she whispered. “It’s fine if you don’t, I won’t push you.” Her throat tightened at the thought that this might end.  
“No, yes. It feels…nice.” And god help her, it did! Vera’s swelling nipples rubbed against the inside of her dress and a tiny shiver flickered through her nether regions as Joan's kisses became more forceful and her hands finally cupped her sensitive bosom.

The slippery fabric of Vera's dress moulded perfectly to the bare skin beneath and Joan alternately rubbed and gently squeezed the firm mounds as Vera's breathing became more laboured and the smaller woman began to sway in her embrace. Joan teasingly dragged lazy fingertips from the outer edges of Vera’s areolae to the very tips of her hardened nipples; deliberately scraping the sensitive peaks with heavy swipes of her thumbs; teasing her with featherlight passes of her glossy nails over the tight, wrinkled buds, their polished surface skating around and around on the verdant sheen. Her warm fingers flowed over Vera's chest and her soft throat, and she luxuriated in the velvety texture of the woman as she nuzzled the softly scented skin behind Vera's ear.

A vortex of desire threaded its way through Joan’s body making her squirm with want and she lifted the heavy curtain of Vera's hair from her pale shoulders, placing a warm kiss on the nape of her neck as a passionate moan escaped through her nose.  
The need in that moan vibrated through Vera's consciousness and, with no small amount of trepidation, she reached up and undid the halter-neck’s fastening and the deep green satin slid over her collar bones as Joan's mouth worked its way down between her shoulder blades; she clasped the bodice to her chest as, emboldened, Joan slowly undid the zip and kissed her all the way to the downy hollow of her lower back.

Vera shivered at the gentle eroticism. She'd never been been touched so sensuously and she let out a timorous sigh as warm hands slipped inside her dress and girdled her naked waist. Joan rose behind her, her seductive kisses now tracing the sensitive curve of her neck, making Vera’s eyelids flutter and her thighs weaken. She could feel the heat of the woman through her thin shirt and she shivered again as Joan pulled her tight, and her large hands returned to caress her breasts.

Impulsively Vera let go of her dress and, as she felt it slither to her hips, a flash of fear gripped her belly at the recklessness of it all – what was she doing? Ohh, she shouldn’t be enjoying this! She wasn’t queer but she was letting a woman touch her in the most intimate way and she wanted more! She looked down at her breasts in Joan’s hands and the chilly fear transformed into smouldering coals of excitement and filled her with a deep flush of arousal. She squirmed, a sudden slave to the undeniable throb between her legs

“Oh, Vera, you're beautiful,” breathed Joan with true reverence, “kiss me…” Turning around, Vera tentatively slid her arms around her neck and lifted her mouth to Joan's. Her dress puddled around her ankles and Joan’s hands covered her near-naked buttocks causing a flood of warmth to fill her lower belly. Joan’s hard nipples pressed into her as their breasts collided and the sensation sent an arrow of need shooting through her.  
Breaking the kiss, Joan whispered, “would you like to go inside?” Vera's eyes widened and she nodded, not trusting herself to speak and ruin the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

As Joan led the way, light from the room silhouetted her figure through the thin silk and Vera experienced an impulsive yearning for the long, sensuously curving lines of her body. Nervous excitement pulsed in her throat as Joan pulled back the covers on the large bed and she allowed herself to be laid down on the snowy linen. After slipping her party shoes from her sore feet, Joan lifted Vera's head and carefully freed her hair, feathering it over the pillows like spun copper and then gazed deeply into Vera's trusting brown eyes before climbing in beside her.

Resting her head on her palm, Joan took a long moment to drink in Vera's loveliness. Her freckled skin glowed in the golden lamplight and although her figure was full and womanly, it was firm too, and Joan laid her hand on Vera's fluttering belly and smiled reassuringly to assuage her nervousness. She remembered that nervousness, the trepidation Vera must be feeling.  
“Hey,” she whispered, leaning in and kissing Vera tenderly. She gently cradled Vera's face but as their kiss intensified, her hand found the resilient softness of her ivory tits and Vera began to whimper as Joan thumbed her stiff nipples once more.

Feather-light fingertips skimmed the delicate rise of Vera's pubic bone and trailed over the tops of her thighs, mapping the soft swell and eliciting soft gasps as she shuddered at the wonderful sensation that chased across her skin. Her eyes locked with Joan's and she was staggered by the intensity and sincerity she found there.  
Returning to Vera's mons, Joan began to trace its contours and, lifting her head, Vera stared with intrigue and apprehension at Joan's hand, and they both watched as her fingers outlined the whorls of pubic hair through the thin nylon of Vera's knickers, the recess at the top of her slit and the plush furrow that disappeared between her closed thighs. A raging fire burst through her and Vera thought that she was going to faint with the heat of it as it burned through her final misgivings. She wanted this thing that Joan could give her, she wanted to be desired.

The shiny fabric was such a flimsy barrier to where Joan wanted to be but she had to respect it, for now anyway. It had been a long, long time since she’d had the honour of taking a woman’s virginity.  
“Oh, Vera,” she breathed, “you're so sexy. If you’ll let me, I’ll make you feel so good.” Vera was already feeling good but she wanted to feel even better, and drawing Joan's hand back to her breast, she kissed her deeply before lying back with a wide smile of assent.

With a soft smile Joan covered the woman’s startlingly pale body with her own, slipping her thigh between Vera’s as she slowly ground against the firm, broad hip beneath her. Vera responded instantly. With a thudding heart and a throbbing clit, Joan pressed her thigh hard into damp fabric as Vera closed her eyes and rubbed her swollen sex against her in a clumsy rhythm.

Oh, god, that felt so good! Vera shimmied down the pillows as she worked herself against Joan and she slipped her arms around her muscular back, her fingers exploring the delicate ridge of Joan’s spine and the feminine curve of her waist as it flowed into those soft, broad hips; those hips that rocked into her and made her so wet. She felt so different from a man, smelled different too, and Vera’s hands found the rounded swell of Joan’s bum and pushed herself even harder into her meaty thigh.

Pushing her forehead into Joan's shoulder, Vera knew that there was nothing about this that felt wrong and she dragged her swollen mouth across the wrinkled white silk seeking the soft, velvety skin of Joan's throat and she began to kiss it with a feverish intensity until she felt Joan's fingers slipping to the back of neck, pulling her from the security of the pillows.

Now she was on top of Joan. And Joan's hot hands were stroking her arse, urging her on as she slid up and down the long, hard muscle of her thigh. Vera fell into the deep, hot kisses and gasped as silvery bells of sensation pealed throughout her body. She couldn’t believe that she was this turned on, that another woman had got her so excited and that she was letting it happen, wanting more to happen...

Vera opened her legs wider, opened herself up further to the sinfully wonderful contact with this curiously hot woman. But as she moved, her kickers crept up into her most intimate folds, soaking up her excited desire until the saturated cloth began to irritate more than it delighted and so, hastily yanking them off, she knelt above Joan and once more and felt a quiver in her belly as she took in the woman’s body. The thin, crumpled shirt did little to disguise the attractive swell of her tits or their dark peaks, it moulded to her narrow ribs and her rounded belly and it clung damply to Joan's thighs, rendering her intimate area clearly visible through the almost transparent silk. Long, erratic pulses flowed through Vera’s cunt at the thought of touching what lay beneath that thin covering.

Awash with need, Joan stared with undisguised lust at the thick pelt of deep copper that parted in dark wings down the inside of Vera's alabaster thighs, and she unbuttoned her shirt just enough to slide a hand inside and cup her breast, her eyelids fluttering as she squeezed and rolled it in her palm. Her other hand slithered down her belly and gathered up the hem to reveal her own damp forest, and she gazed darkly up at Vera's lust filled expression, into her pale face so perfectly framed by her lustrous hair as it cascaded over her delicate shoulders. She seemed to be glowing in the soft lamp light like some ethereal vision.

“Kiss, me, Vera,” she husked and curled her fingers around Vera's elbows, lifting her shoulders from the bed to meet her and offering her swollen lips for another kiss. Vera moaned deeply into Joan's mouth as her silken membranes met Joan's bare leg and she felt the rich, damp heat of Joan's sex bleeding into her own. Her hair fell around their faces, curtaining their intimacy as her cunt leaked hot, creamy wetness and Vera rubbed her slippery clit to an aching hardness that had her searching for breath as Joan’s sure hands caressed her back.  
Pulling away Vera, spread her legs as wide as possible and rode Joan's hip with abandon. Her back bowed as she heaved and panted, her own breath loud in her ears, the whimpers in her dry throat louder still.

Joan unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and ran her hands over her hot skin, fingers seeking her dark nipples, seeking her throbbing slit– fuck, Vera was so sexy! She reached between her legs and stroked Vera's gyrating hip, grazing her own swollen clit with her wrist as she gripped the shining ivory flesh of her lover, transfixed by Vera's swaying breasts, her perfectly pink and pointed nipples inviting a hot mouth to cover them. Joan juddered with lust, toes gripping and releasing the increasingly rumpled sheet as she rotated her hips and pressed as much of her stickiness as she could against Vera's straining thigh.  
  
The unctuous slick that coated her leg made her desperate to go further, to dip her fingers in the source of Vera’s nectar. “Can I touch you, Vera?” she rasped.  
Biting her lip in nervous anticipation, Vera nodded and closed her eyes as she allowed herself to be rolled onto her back. Vera’s face slackened as Joan's hand replaced her thigh and her hot mouth enveloped a stiff nipple, her agile tongue coaxing delicious feelings from the swollen tip as her long fingers parted the sodden mass of her bush and massaged Vera's fleshy inner lips. As Joan’s fingertips circled her twitching clit Vera's mouth widened in delicious ecstasy and she was soon writhing in the grip of a furious need for more as Joan expertly teased her opening.

“Oh, Joan! Oh, oh, Joan….!” Vera's voice cracked under the astonishing sensation. Every inch of her was alive to Joan’s touch, as if she were being stroked by a thousand hands and kissed by a thousand lips.  
“You want more? You want me inside you?”  
“Oh, yes,” she whispered urgently. “Oh, Joan, don’t stop!”  
Using all her fingers, Joan forcefully smeared Vera's velvety secretions over her slippery folds, rubbing hard and fast as the red-head bucked and groaned in helpless, guttural response, then she slid two fingers easily inside, quickly pulling them out to add a third as Vera raised her hips and ground her head into the pillow. Vera was so wet, so tight that each push and pull of Joan's fingers produced obscenely sexy slapping and sucking noises.  
“Oh, fuck, Vera, you're so hot! Can you hear that?” Joan was so turned on that it hurt. Sliding her thigh over Vera's, she tried to slake a little of the raging hunger that pervaded her soul, cupping Vera's cunt in her flexing grip as she rocked her own aching wetness into the solid heat of Vera's hip.

Vera was nearly out of her mind with pleasure. “Oh, my god….!" she mumbled distractedly, finding it difficult to form proper words. Joan felt so good on top of her, her soft weight so natural and right. Never had she felt this way with a man, like she was being given something she’d never known she needed, and it floated around her nameless and shining in its newness as Joan made love to her.

Joan's forceful thrusting lifted her higher and higher towards the breathless pinnacle of orgasm and Vera found herself winding Joan’s soft hair in her fingers and pulling her face up from her tits as she sought another kiss, a kiss that almost paralysed her in its intensity, and she fell back against the pillows, clawing at the sheets as Joan’s hot mouth slid back down to her quivering, blue veined breasts.

Her breathing became shallow rasps and hoarse whimpers escaped from her dry throat as an electric charge tightened every muscle in her body, flowing through her with a relentlessness that made her buzz and stiffen as the glorious feeling in her sex reached its zenith and she exploded around Joan's hand in a flurry of gasping yelps, melting in the heat of Joan’s intensity, liquefying as she was claimed by bliss.

As she floated back down into her body she realised that she'd never climaxed so quickly with any other lover and she worried that Joan might think that she was a slut of the first order. She didn’t know what had happened tonight to bring about this turn of events but she felt amazing. She also felt more than a little out of her depth as she wondered what was expected of her now as Joan slowly ground her wet, wiry bush against her tembling thigh.

“What about you?” she asked Joan with a sudden shyness.  
“What about me?  
“Well, you haven’t ‘finished’ have you?” She paused as Joan smiled indulgently at the quaint expression, “don’t you want to?” Vera lowered her eyes as a wave of embarrassment at what that might entail flashed through her. Jesus, she was so torn between want and her hidebound sense of propriety...  
Joan eased herself on top of Vera and dragged her lips over the swell of Vera’s satiny breast before locking eyes with her. “Do you want to make me come, Vera?” she murmured and slowly rocked her hips, “it won’t take much, I can assure you of that - you make me so hot that I'm nearly there already.”

Vera swallowed hard. She did. She did want to make Joan come but, as much as she wanted that, she didn't think that she could give her what she wanted, she was scared that she couldn’t return her touch - not tonight at least.  
Joan saw the sudden worry in Vera's eyes and smiled reassuringly, and she leaned in to kiss her gently, “it's OK, Vera,” she whispered and cupped her cheek in her large hand, “you don't have to do anything, just watching me will be enough.”

Joan's heaving chest shone in the golden lamp light as she rolled off Vera and shrugged the white shirt from her tanned shoulders. Laying back against the disordered pillows she stroked her way from inner thigh to cleavage, drawing the current of arousal through her body as she held Vera’s gaze. Her nipples lengthened under her rough caress and her hips jerked as the clenching in her cunt grew.  
Reaching out, she slipped her fingers into Vera's palm and smiled as she continued to stare intently into her brown eyes, telling Vera with every blink just how special she was; then, drawing her knees up, she squeezed her damp thighs together, compressing her throbbing sex, and teased herself until she was almost delirious.

Twisting onto her side, Vera’s gaze slid over the undulating amazon and she licked her bruised lips at the simple, unadorned beauty of her body. Every inch of her shone like sunlight through honey and she realised that yes, she really wanted to touch Joan properly, but she was still scared, scared of what it would mean; she also felt ashamed that she wasn't bold enough, yet her hand crept hesitantly onto Joan's heaving midriff and, as she stared once more into her shining hazel eyes, she nearly drowned in the intensity of desire that she found there.

At Vera’s touch the insistent, aching throb that consumed her sexual flesh became too much to bear and Joan opened her ample thighs, gasping as the night caressed her abundant wetness, heightening the deep, tight, clenching need for release. She let her knees fall apart and slid one foot along Vera’s leg until they were twined together and, with a long sigh, Joan sank two fingers between her outer lips and bared her pinkness. She stroked the peak of her hard clit and gave a strangled cry as the ecstasy flashed through her like sheet lightning.

Grabbing Vera’s hand, Joan dragged it up to her breast and urged her to knead the pliant flesh as her left hand slipped from Vera’s grip and snaked between her thighs to join its twin, and she sank her long fingers deep into her scalding well, swirling them against the soft, pulsing walls as her thick juices flowed unchecked around her knuckles.  
Ffuuck! Her whole body shook and Joan literally saw stars as she was wracked with pre-orgasmic spasms. Her jaws stretched wide and she screwed her eyes shut as her body buzzed and burned. The deep ache that had plagued her for most of the evening softened but its grip remained, spreading throughout her frame and filling her with a tingling light that seemed to lift her from the bed as she pleasured herself to the sounds of Vera’s soft gasps of wonder.

Vera’s hand roamed over jiggling breasts - pushed together between Joan’s long arms as her fingers worked between her rounded thighs - and Vera bit her lip as her lust fought her ingrained reticence. Lust won out and Vera flushed with excitement as she cautiously squeezed the hot, dense softness and feltJoan’s hard nipple pressing into her palm.

Vera was astounded and a little embarrassed too. Was this how she looked when she touched herself? Did she wear the same look of concentrated abandonment? Make the same noises? She'd never seen anyone touch themself like this, not a prisoner in the late night seclusion of their cell; not even herself, preferring the cover of darkness and the safety of her bedcovers when she occasionally felt sexy enough to masturbate. And she'd never touched herself in front of a lover either in case they thought that they weren't enough for her.

She dragged her eyes away from the exotic spectacle of her pale fingers rolling another woman’s dark nipple to an iron-like hardness and gazed in wonder once more at Joan’s handsome face. Her strong features had transformed into a simple beauty and Vera felt her breath catch in her throat.  
“Kiss me, Vera,” growled Joan and Vera craned her neck until their lips met. It felt as if Joan wanted to devour her with her hot, urgent kisses and, as she fondled the heaving expanse of golden flesh beneath her hand, the sweating woman’s moans intensified and she began to undulate with every breath that she snatched until Joan threw her head to one side with a mighty groan and sucked in a shuddering lungful of air.

“Ohhh...!” cried Joan as muscles clenched around her fingers and her clit seemed as if it would burst as she bathed it in satiny wetness, intensifying the blissful sensation until her body was rigid with pent up need for release. “Ohh, my god!” she cried again, “oh fffff.....!!!” Her words died in her throat as she dissolved into the liquid silk of orgasm. She felt as if her whole body was an extension of her clit, and she shook under the magnitude of it all, losing herself in the dark velvet waves until finally, they diminished and she became aware of her surroundings once more. She gradually regained her senses, her heart still hammering and her cunt continuing to pulse slow and deep whilst Vera watched her in awed silence.

“Do you still think that you’re not good enough, Vera?” she asked thickly. Vera sat up and took a cigarette from the open pack on the bedside table, she studied it for a moment before lighting it and then drew the creased sheet over her nakedness. She turned back to Joan, her face a study in unanswered questions. “I don’t consider this a one night stand, you know, I knew that as soon as I started talking to you.” Even though she’d known Vera for only a few hours she knew this to be the truth. They shared more than one common bond and Joan had taken an instant liking to this awkward woman. She was keen to get to know her better and to have her in her life.

Vera drew on the cigarette and regarded her tiredly with habitual suspicion. “But you did at first, you must have,”she replied with a trace of bitterness, “why else would you have come and sat down beside me?”  
“Jesus, Vera,” sighed Joan in exasperation, “just because I’m a lesbian it doesn’t mean that I want to sleep with every woman I meet!” She plucked the cigarette from Vera’s fingers and inhaled deeply, “you are an impressive woman, the youngest Governor in the state no less - am I not allowed to be a little star struck once in a while?” Vera stared sullenly at her knees and then Joan’s hazel eyes traced the sinuous contours of Vera’s back as she reached for another cigarette and she wondered just how hard Vera was going to make this for both of them.

“But you still seduced me, took me to bed.”  
“If I remember correctly, Vera, the choice was yours.”  
Vera ignored her. “They’re just words, Joan, you don’t really care…” she muttered acidly, preparing herself for the worst. She was feeling frayed around the edges now, she’d drunk far too much tonight and tiredness was rapidly claiming her senses and making it difficult to think straight.  
“Oh, I care, Vera, I don’t make a habit of this kind of thing I can assure you. I consider myself very lucky indeed that you said yes. And I’d consider myself even luckier if you wanted to see me again.” Joan’s gaze locked onto Vera’s dark eyes then flickered over her angular features to her full lower lip, and back up again. “I’m not going to put the hard word on you though, it’s not who I am, but I want you to know that I see something special in you that you obviously can’t see for yourself.”

Sliding from the bed, Joan closed the balcony door and crossed to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway as she searched for the light switch. Turning to Vera she noted how the other woman stared at her naked body with hungry eyes. “I’m going to take a shower, you’re welcome to join me if you’d like?” To her disappointment though, Vera gave a shy shake of her head and focused on her cigarette once more. Joan smiled in regret, the red-head was truly captivating in the soft light, especially as from this angle the sheet barely covered her and a delicious slice of her figure was artfully revealed, particularly the swell of her heavy breast.

She expected Vera to be gone when she emerged from the bathroom but no, there she was, chin on her chest as her head lolled at an awkward angle. Joan smiled indulgently, Vera had had a big night, no wonder she’d dozed off. It seemed a shame to wake her so Joan carefully eased her down the bed and climbed in beside her, pulling the covers up as she fitted herself into Vera’s side. She fell asleep breathing in Vera’s perfume.


	4. Chapter 4

Drunken shrieks in the hotel corridor woke Vera from a fevered dream and, unable to instantly place where she was, she started in shock as her mind registered Joan beside her, her naked body radiating heat like a furnace. A long squint at her watch on the nightstand told her that it was 4am – that limbo hour between night and day, that dead hour where everything is surreal and dreamlike. 

Swallowing drily, she gently disentangled herself from Joan's long arms and half fell, half slid out of the large bed. The light in the bathroom made her wince and she shivered as she drank straight from the tap and then splashed water over her hot face, washing away the uncomfortable sticky layer of sweat and make-up that coated her skin.

Her thighs complained as she sat on the toilet and she yawned widely as she waited to finish pissing. A scratchy itch as she wiped herself reminded her just how forcefully she’d been fingerfucked by Joan tonight and a residual twinge of arousal gripped her clit and momentarily stilled the breath in her throat.  Sudden, competing thoughts of joy and worry chased around in Vera's tired mind as she tried to piece together the journey of her evening. How had Joan been able to make her reveal this side of her so easily when she had hidden, no, denied it, for so long? What did it mean? To her, to Joan, to her job? Vera didn’t know how to approach something like this.

 

To her surprise, Joan was sitting up in bed, a cigarette smouldering between her fingers. “Hey,” she smiled,

Vera responded with a tight smile of her own and busied herself with the kettle. She felt Joan’s eyes on her but didn’t turn around, worried that doing so would start a conversation that she wasn’t ready for but her eyes were drawn to the reflection of the woman’s naked torso in the mirror and the arresting sight of her breasts, she swallowed hard as a flush crept up her neck and her chest tightened. She silently made tea and went out onto the balcony to find her clutch bag and cigarettes. Sitting on the bench she draped the full skirt of her dress over her belly and legs in an attempt to counter the chill as she shakily lit up.

 

The glittering city was quiet now except for the faint roaring of intermittent traffic on the highways cutting through the cool blue air. Vera chewed on her thumbnail and stared up at the fading stars, her mind still whirling from her conflicted emotions. How did she feel about all of this? Was she queer now? Was she half and half? Shit, she was so confused!

Could she find the courage to see Joan again? She couldn’t deny that there was a definite attraction there, something about her made Vera’s pulse quicken and her lips twitch at the thought of kissing her again. But, if she did, would she ever be able to admit it to other people? Vera sighed and put her head in her hands as she cursed her inability to know her own mind, maybe if she had more experience with lovers then she’d know how to deal with this but she didn’t, and her sense of self was floundering badly.

 

Childishly, she wished that she could magically escape from this balcony and wake up in her own bed, anything to avoid the embarrassment of running away, but she knew that she couldn’t avoid having to speak to Joan (or at the very least make up an excuse).

She smoked two more cigarettes before the cold drove her inside and she rushed to the bathroom, avoiding

Joan’s eyes, to dress and comb the tangles from her hair. Steeling herself, Vera  emerged and searched for her shoes, uncomfortably aware that Joan was still watching her. She froze at Joan’s voice.

 

“Is that it then? Are you leaving?”

Perching tensely on the end of the bed, Vera lit yet another cigarette as a distraction as she squeezed her toes into her fancy sandals. “Well, what else can I do?” she glanced at Joan and flushed with guilt when she saw the look of disappointment on the other woman’s face

“I’ve already told you, whatever makes you comfortable, Vera. It’s up to you, but I like you and would like to see you again.”

“You do?” she asked in a tone of amazement, she was the most unlikeable person she knew... “Even if that’s true, how am I meant to know what to do next? I’m so muddled...”

 

“Look, Vera,” said Joan levelly, “life is what you make it. If, when you’ve had time to think about tonight,  you decide that you’ve made a mistake, then so be it. Like all mistakes,  you just have to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and get on with life, as long as you learn something from it, Vera, don’t let regret become your bedfellow. But fortune favours the brave as they say, and I for one subscribe wholeheartedly to that philosophy. Life really _is_ too short not to go out and find something that makes you happy.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” groaned  Vera as her hangover gathered pace, “I just want to go to bed....”

“Just not mine, eh?” smiled Joan ruefully. “Look, Vera, I won’t rush you. Go back to your hotel, or whatever, and get some sleep. I might see you in some of the seminars later but I’ll give you your space. I have no more desire to be the subject of idle gossip than you do.” She eased herself from the bed and scooped up Vera’s knickers, pressing them into the woman’s unresisting hand as she headed for the bathroom.

 

Joan gazed softly at Vera’s stricken expression and gently stroked her pale cheek. “Please don’t look back on tonight as something to be embarrassed about. You’ve made me very happy and I hope that I’ve made you happy too, even if it wasn’t quite what you were expecting, but I really would like to see you again. Really, I do.” She paused as a faint smile flickered over the woman’s tired face, “and whatever the outcome, Vera, I’d like to be your friend.” It was true too, back in Brisbane she was a solitary creature, just two or three people allowed close enough to her to be called friends, even fewer that she could call lovers, and now here was Vera, a perfect combination of both - if the fates dared to let her have such a luxury in her life.

 

Joan turned and hastily scribbled down her address and phone number. Handing the slip of paper to Vera, she took the half-burned cigarette from between her fingers and raised it to her lips, squinting through the smoke as she said, “it’s your move, Vera. Call me, don’t call me, write to me if it’s easier, it’s up to you to do as you see fit, I’ll be here.”

 

Vera tucked the paper into her bag and stood up. In her heels she was the same height as Joan and she finally gathered the courage to look her squarely in the eye. As she did so, something clicked in her brain and she realised that she had been a fool to feel so scared and that she was being offered something on her terms - not, as had so often been the case in the past, scraps of part-time affection - and she pressed her lips to Joan’s with a sigh.

“Thank you,” she whispered, squeezing Joan’s fingers briefly, “I’ll be in touch.”

 

As the door clicked shut Joan sat down on the bed, the sheets still warm from Vera’s sweet backside, and hugged herself as a big grin split her face. The thought of seeing this woman again, of exploring her mind and body further filled her with happiness. If she could have seen into the corridor, then she would have seen Vera doing much the same thing as she waited for the elevator to arrive.


End file.
